


carry me home

by SNES



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Road Trips, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SNES/pseuds/SNES
Summary: "You keep doing this."It's not the end of the road for him yet, but until then, Jaemin's just trying to find where he belongs.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 60





	carry me home

**Author's Note:**

> TW//////// heed the tags, please. there's lots of depressive introspection in this piece and i dont encourage anyone who's triggered by the tags to read this.
> 
> also title is from jorja smith's carry me home

_"You keep doing this."_

Jeno sighs out for the first time that night, or morning; it's some time Jaemin didn't bother thinking about, knowing he's got worse shit to fathom. On that note, he's quick to understand that the sigh Jeno had just heaved out wouldn't be the last.

Jaemin looks up and stares at the creases in Jeno's face that's illuminated by the purplish light of the bar sign. He couldn't really blame Jeno for being irritated at him— then again, he couldn't really do much of anything. His body felt frozen, stiff, like he's broken through the tight cracks of icy meltwater, barely moving, barely alive. The gravel of the sidewalk was cold against his prickly skin, and the dried-out blood from his nose smears lower when he whimpers at the relief of finally being hoisted up into Jeno's hold.

He walks, tries as Jeno guides him, but his legs are liquified to complete frailty; he wanted to scream and thrash around and punch the floor for letting himself stoop so low. When Jeno gently lays him down on the passenger seat of his car, he wanted to bang his head against the windows until it cracked and he felt numb, he wanted to jam his feet and the rest of his body on the dashboard cabinet and somehow end up in Narnia, and he wanted to find a gun in the backseat and shoot everyone in the bar down. But more than anything, he wanted to disappear.

He did nothing.

When nights like these came, Jaemin couldn't will himself to breathe. It's not worth it if he keeps fucking things up. Tonight, he'd successfully ruined Jeno's last chance at a wink of sleep until the next Sunday— he'd go on to spend the rest of his week cramming to finish his fucking thesis, of all things, and Jaemin just had to go fuck his life up some more by texting Jeno to pick him up at a random bar he's managed to find himself in at the dead of night.

There was no ounce of doubt in Jaemin that thought Jeno wasn't going to do it— he always does this, shows up with fluctuating amounts of worry every single time, depending on his mood. Jaemin can't pinpoint why tonight felt a little different, but if the sight of Jeno, confused and dithered by the grimace running down his nerves, malfunctioning in the driver's seat as he slams the gear shift, revs up the engine, all while his foot stayed on the brake had anything to do with that observation, Jaemin knew he was probably in for the worst ride of his life.

"Dumbass. You're supposed to lift your foot from the brake," Jaemin stutters out, gesturing at Jeno to calm down. _It's not fair,_ he thinks, as soon as he says it. He's the dumbass here.

"I am— I'm lifting my foot— fuck." Jeno hisses, shaking his head as he grips the steering wheel tighter. _"Fuck_ driving. I'm freaking out. What the fuck."

It takes a few more seconds before Jeno successfully wheels them out of the random bar's parking lot and through the long stretch of the empty highway. Jaemin had to take a bus, bury himself in his coat for an hour and a half, to get here— and have his own crap thrown and jabbed right back at his glitter-bombed face until he's limping on the sidewalk. Dousing his drink over a random man's polo was not part of his plan— getting into a fight with said man wasn't part of it either, but for Jaemin, it's not a great plan for a spontaneous night out without disaster trailing just a few steps after him.

He doesn't feel sorry for himself, doesn't quite regret it yet, but only because he's spent his time supposedly regretting it to remind himself that he's shitty for dragging Jeno along, for not apologizing as soon as he'd shown up, and for even thinking of doing this in the first place.

Jeno is silent, so Jaemin starts explaining himself in lieu of basking in the pain of his bloodied everything. "I didn't whore myself out, like you think I did." He mutters. When Jeno doesn't say anything, Jaemin continues, giving in to his guilt and subsequently confessing, "But I was supposed to."

Jeno just nods, clearly frenzied. His eyes are on the road but barely. "I know."

"Does it anger you?"

Jeno forcefully jabs the button of the radio then, but there were no channels up. "Don't ask me like you don't know." He says after a few seconds, aggravated.

"I want to go to the park." Jaemin says, then Jeno pauses to take a breather again.

"You want to go to— fucking _what_ now?"

He shrugs. "Nevermind."

"Crap. The deal is, I drive you home." Jeno lets out a firm puff of breath despite the fact that he's obviously shaking in worry. "I drive myself home— crack a can of beer, maybe five cans, I don't know. _Fuck,_ Jaemin. You scare me sometimes."

"Can I stay with you?" He asks, again, just to see if Jeno would let him.

Jeno cringes. "What?"

"Nevermind." He says, again, but this time around he doesn't mean it. He wants Jeno to reach over and hold him close and tell him, _yeah, you can stay, Jaemin. You can stay for as long as you want to. I won't ever ask you to leave. So, just stay._

"What is it?" Asks Jeno. He tentatively holds his hand out to reach for Jaemin, but it flies right back to the steering wheel as soon as Jeno takes a swerve to the freeway gate.

"What's what?" Jaemin asks back.

"What's the problem, okay?" He says. "You can tell me."

Jaemin hitches out a sigh of pressure, because he didn't want to give answers. At that point, he figures, the tone in Jeno's voice meant he needed those answers, but Jaemin doesn't know a way through it where he doesn't say anything like— "I'm going to die alone." _Shit._ He clicks his tongue and tries again. "Not, like— alone. Like, miserable, lonely, slit-my-wrists-in-the-bathtub alone." _Well, fuck._

Jeno tries to find some relevant context in his answer— either that, or he's just pretending he missed Jaemin's point entirely. "So you try and get picked up by random men at a sketchy bar?"

He scoffs. "That's not the only thing to do at a sketchy bar,"

"But you were doing it."

"But I'm shit-faced and I'm dead inside and I'm trying to look for people I can just push away without feeling bad." He shrugs the anxiety of admitting this off, because it's the only thing he knows how to do. He leans harder against his seat, shaking. "I feel bad about everything. It's so stupid."

"Still, you weren't supposed to be there." Jeno clicks his tongue. "It's a waste of your whole get-up."

"Don't be such a saint, Jeno—"

"I'm not being a saint, I'm being a good fucking friend." He loudly reiterates, his tone giving away his stunted anger. "And I didn't drive twenty fucking miles away at 2 in the morning just so you could tell me you were right about this."

Jaemin shrinks into his coat at the directness of Jeno's words. There was no other time to deal with this than a time he wishes he didn't have to deal with it, and it renders him defenseless, as worthless and weak and shitty as ever.

"Are we fighting?" He shudders under his breath, meekly. He doesn't face Jeno when he knows Jeno wants them to be staring. For some reason, he just couldn't stand it, knowing Jeno's hurt by all of this.

"We're not—" Jeno lets out a grave sigh, long enough to keep him silent for a few heavy seconds. "We're not fighting."

Jaemin know's what's coming now. It's inevitable— Jeno's either going to get a grip and shut up, or he's going to fall into a trance, his elaborate, optimistic speech mode, where he'll talk about hope, and sunrises, and the light at the end of the tunnel and all the reasons Jaemin should flip the crust of Earth over to find it, instead. Jaemin tried and he never got anywhere. It's dumb and too idealistic, and it gives him the onus to act as if he's able to imbibe these things like it's not a harder pill to swallow than the Xanax he keeps on his nightstand. He doesn't believe any of it—

"Jaemin, I love you."

— But, God, he wishes he could.

Jaemin doesn't say it back, even though he has every ounce of courage in his body to feel like he has the right to, and that he has to say it like it's true. Overwhelmed, he confesses, "I don't want to hurt you, you know." Jeno nods as soon as he hears it, urging Jaemin to continue. "I'm saying this— because, I will. Someday."

Jeno croaks back in haste, as wracked up as he'll ever be. "Maybe if I love you enough, you wouldn't."

"You can't love me enough," he mumbles, certain. "I can't. Even." He cruelly adds— which makes him bite his lips, because he shouldn't have, and it makes him think twice, because now he has to say, "It's going to make me lonely for the rest of my life."

"Then I guess I can just do this for the rest of my life, too."

"Jeno—" he can feel the tears threaten to fall then, so he wipes them away, over and over, as if the sight of this was going to make Jeno think he wasn't worth it. Jeno never thinks anyone's not worth it that it becomes his biggest flaw sometimes.

"It wasn't a joke." He says, firmly. "I love you. What part of that did you think I didn't mean?"

Jaemin's shoulders fall, because he didn't know, but a great part of him that keeps him miserable just couldn't settle with having love handed so easily to him. He's on the brink of knowing why he keeps doing things he's not supposed to do— because he's depressed, and he doesn't know where he belongs, doesn't know if _this_ is where he belongs, where the whole universe screams at him: he deserves to be ruined a little more than he deserves to be loved.

"Jeno," By then, he was already breaking down, but he lays his head on the window and presses his hands against his mouth to stop himself from letting out a sound. He mumbles against his knuckles, shaky and whisper-low, perched precariously in the intersection of _I don't want you to hear me_ and _listen to me, just listen to me, please._ "You'll grow sick of me."

Jeno doesn't answer him— not with words. As soon as they reach a stoplight and Jeno brings the whole car to a halt, everything, even time, stops. It doubles the dread— the relief— that's brought by Jeno slipping his arm slowly over Jaemin's shoulder, over the side of his head, like he's wiggling through their boundary instead of breaking it. He pulls Jaemin close in the gentlest way possible, until Jaemin's head has fully tilted against Jeno's chest and all he can hear as the tears trickle from his eyes is the sound of Jeno's calming heartbeat.

He cries harder then, his resolve crumbling to bits. Jeno only grazes his fingers over Jaemin's hair softly, over and over, in hopes of reminding Jaemin that he's never far away, that as much as Jaemin's built to spill, Jeno's willing to pick up the pieces. They stay like that for a longer time than what they'd both intended, but it deals a lot more solace for Jaemin than he hopes it would— just crying in the car, cradled in Jeno's welcoming arms, and for that he knew he couldn't thank Jeno enough. 

Jaemin swallows down the pressure in his throat for a moment, just to leave a sliver of air for him to breathe out and ask Jeno, "How badly would I have to fuck up for you to not come around and save me?"

"I'll always save you." Jeno says, and it echoes through the quiet of the car, ringing louder in Jaemin's ears than the singing of the radio static. He hums a tune to Jaemin as they drive for the rest of the hour, like he's saying, _I know I'm not the only thing you need, but I'm here. I'm always here. I'll always save you._ Jeno is here. He's what keeps Jaemin tethered to all the tiny fragments of hope he's lost along the way. And the thought of it is enough to somewhat shift Jaemin back on track to the place he desperately wants to find.

In retrospect, the tears settle strangely. Jaemin softens in Jeno's hold, thinking, in relief: Jeno found his place. Jeno knows where he wants to be, and he knows how much he wants to stay and how much he'll keep wanting to belong here. It's not a beach house with grains of sand and seashells washed over the floorboards, the smell of the sea everywhere, or a skyscraper with a clear view of the city and the stars that freckle the vast night sky. It's a bedroom with a broken doorknob and a window that doesn't even close, with a light that flickers every second, a bed made for a child and crappy neon wallpaper that's tapered and torn badly on the edges— but it smells like flowers and fresh laundry, and it has every little thing Jeno could ever need to call a place his home.

No matter how hard it was for both of them to believe, it was Jaemin— all the stitches, the scars, the parts he'd been ashamed of, and everything else that's broken beyond repair. But it had the good parts, too. The parts that made him feel worthy of love and home. 

He'll never count for much, he never will, but now, under Jeno's knowing gaze, he realizes, he could _still_ be enough.

A place like that for Jaemin is somewhere at the end of a thin line. It's bleak, and verging on impossible, and Jaemin doesn't know what's there for him to find, but with the slightest sliver of hopeful yearning, he prays he'll get there. He holds on to Jeno, as tight as he can, and closes his eyes over the rumbling sound of the car through the highway. He breathes, and he thinks to himself: _I'll get there._

**Author's Note:**

> im not okay. i dont think i've been, for a long time. but thats not something i should be saying on the end notes of a fic ive uploaded essentially to make people feel like they should have a little hope for what's to come. just to emphasise, we're all meant for good things, and we'll all get there, some day. writing this fic helped me immensely, and i hope reading it does the same for the rest of you.
> 
> i encourage people to leave good words in the comments, maybe kudos if u want, and if yall find the time to bask in my constant inactivity im @RETROJENS on twt :))) we got this. i love love love u all <333


End file.
